And Repeat!
by Lalalackadaisy
Summary: In which Antonio is unsure, Francis somehow turns out to be a good friend, and Romano has no idea of any of it. The daily routine of Lovino and Antonio, along with all the woes and joys that come with it. Rated for language and boys kissing.


Warnings: Boy love and my tugging on your heartstrings a tad too much. Possible OOC in the Epilogue.

xXx

"So, they're only gonna air our game if we get more votes than- hey, have you even been paying any attention this whole time, git?"

"Mm? What, yeah, of course," Antonio mumbled distractedly. The attendance was running late again...

"Alright, so to vote you have to..."

Antonio didn't usually dismiss people this easily - he believed kindness given was kindness returned - and he was already beginning to feel guilty. Once you got down to it, though, you couldn't really blame him. Everyone knew that when the boy came around, he only had eyes for Romano.

Antonio exhaled carefully as Romano walked into the room. His heart was starting to beat quickly, as it always did. He didn't particularly mind, though it was hard to shake the feeling that everyone could hear it. He stood up quickly and started weaving through the desks to get to Lovi, not even noticing himself beginning to smile.

The class rep rolled his eyes and went off to convince somebody else of the importance of their school's next soccer ("It's _football_," he protested vehemently) match getting televised. This one was clearly a lost cause.

"Lovi~!" Antonio strode over to the younger boy standing by the teacher's desk, opening his arms for a hug. He wasn't he slightest bit discouraged when he was head-butted instead, doubling over.

"G-good morning, Lovi," he finished shakily.

"How many times have I told you not to call me that, you asshole?"

Ahh, his Lovi was so cute when he pretended to be mad...

"Now, give me the damn strips, before I decide to finally cripple you for good. I should get paid for going through this every day..." Romano trailed off, mumbling as he glared up.

Antonio snatched the attendance strips from the counter before Romano noticed he didn't actually have them this time, straightening up.

"Hey-"

"I'll give them to you for a kiss, Lovi~! Right here," Antonio tapped his cheek, marveling at his own cleverness. Now Lovi would have to kiss him!

Romano's face flushed red and his frown deepened to a complete scowl, "F-fine, jackass, but only because I know you won't give me the stupid things otherwise. I've already been late twice this week; the stupid secretary thinks I've been smoking in the bathrooms, or something..."

Antonio gaped for a moment, not actually having thought that Romano would accept. The last time he tried something like this, Lovi just kicked him between the legs and left without the attendance strips.

He grinned broadly again. Smiling this widely was beginning to hurt, but he didn't really care. It's not like he could stop, and he was finally getting a kiss from Lovi! Francis was right, persistence did pay off! Maybe he should take his advice more often?

Antonio finally smirked a little at his success, leaning down and closing his eyes. He offered his cheek to the Italian.

"Well, Lovi?"

A dark chuckle was his only warning that something was not about to go his way before a fist suddenly met his jaw - Oh, he didn't know Lovi wore a ring, was it new? - and he stumbled back with a new bruise to make up for last week's fading one.

Antonio vaguely registered Lovi snatching the roll-call from his hand before he crashed into a desk and ended up on the floor, staring up at Romano and not sure whether to rub his tailbone or his face. His eyes watered a little at the sting.

"Oww... I didn't mean that kind of kiss, Lovi!" It was interesting how no one really payed attention to them anymore. Except Francis, but Francis payed a little bit too much attention to a lot of things, so Antonio didn't think he counted.

Romano snorted and swung his arm back and forward a few times, rotating his wrist and backing up slowly.

"You and your thick skull deserved that, asshole. And don't think I didn't notice how smug you got there! If you ever try something like that again, I'm kicking your pedo ass to next Tuesday!"

On that note, and looking oddly triumphant, Romano spun on his heel and ran out of the room to catch up with the other monitors. He'd be damned if that fucking woman yelled at him one more time!

Antonio was left to blink in confusion as Francis sighed and helped him up, not even bothering to ask about what his friend could have possibly seen in that obnoxious, violent little freshman this time around. It was unanimously acknowledged that Antonio had bumped his head too hard the first time he met Lovino Vargas.

And Antonio's thoughts on the matter?

"But... but, Francis, I'm only two years older than him!"

xXx

Antonio looked up hopefully as he sent his text to Romano, peering through the crowds of the cafeteria to the other side of the room, where Romano sat next to... actually, he was alone. Hm. That was odd, Antonio could've sworn there was someone there a moment ago.

Antonio enjoyed watching Lovino. Every time the little Italian thought no one was looking, his frown lessened gradually and the tenseness left his shoulders and back, until he was left with a calm, almost sweet, expression. These were the times Antonio loved the best (other than when his little Lovinito blushed, because that was just too adorable and, oh, he look just like a- but, he digressed), when he saw Romano finally relax and leave his anger and paranoia of everyone. He definitely needed the down time, which was why Antonio hated to interrupt, especially with something as mundane as a text alert.

But he had just the best idea! There was a school dance coming up, in the evening after the Winter Faire, and it was juniors-seniors-only. Of course, if they were to bring along a date from the lower classes... that was where Romano came in! He was always talking about how he didn't see what was so, as Gilbert repeatedly emphasised, awesome about the Bad Touch Trio (name coined by Francis), and this was the perfect chance to show him.

See, Romano never went with a date - at least not one he liked - proclaiming the dances completely stupid and retarded and moronic and other synonyms for 'dumb.' He was usually dragged along with his brother and Ludwig, and, if he actually asked a girl to go with him, they both ended up standing by the soda table until the dance was over, downing the stuff like it was alcohol and chatting about their respective crushes and how dense they were.

Poor boy. He didn't know that the soda was only spiked at parties.

(And Antonio had once had the unfortunate idea of trying to listen in on what his little Lovi talked about with his cute friends, but the notion died down quickly when he watched Romano dump a whole can of soda on Francis's head when the poor Frenchman got too close.)

Anyways, Antonio reasoned, if he went with Lovi and, provided he showed him a good time, convinced him that the school dances were not nearly as retarded as he claimed, it was only a few short steps from there to get him to come to one of his, Gilbert's, and Francis's parties! And then the fun would really start!

(Besides, everyone knew the dances were stupid.)

Romano's peaceful expression disappeared almost immediately as he felt his phone vibrate. He sighed, reaching into his pocket to see who the hell was so sure his house was on fire, because there was no other way he was bothering to reply.

It was Antonio. He rolled his eyes and stuffed the thing back into his back pocket, going back to talking to... midai- oh, no, there was another sophomore sitting next to him, a boy clutching what looked like a living baby polar bear. Romano's face slowly became animated again and he carelessly started gesturing as he talked, sometimes pausing for a moment as the boy next to him replied shyly, seemingly in a friendly argument.

Oh, well. There was always next time.

Antonio turned back towards his table in time to get a face-full of chocolate milk, courtesy of Gilbert, as Elizaveta casually accepted Gilbert's offer to take her to the dance.

xXx

"AUGH!"

Romano screamed as Antonio's face came uncomfortably close immediately after he slammed his brother's locker closed. The lucky bastard got a locker right next to Romano's next class, and he'd be completely stupid not to take advantage of that.

"What the hell?"

Antonio laughed lightly, moving back considerably. "Lovi, I've finally figured it out. I think the reason Feli's locker is broken is because you slam it like that every time you use it."

"Am I going to have to remind you not to call me that every single damn time you stalk me, you bastard?"

"Call you what, Lovi?"

Romano took a deep breath. "That. That stupid nickname, the one that everyone else is kind enough _not to call me_ because they know I _hate it_." And if he hated something, it was most likely to get hurt very soon, as Antonio knew very well.

"Of course not, Lovi."

And maybe the dent in the locker door was because he slammed his head against it so often.

Romano was halfway down the row of lockers before Antonio snapped out of his cuteness-induced (Oh, Lovi was _so adorable_ when he got all red like that~!) haze and jumped forward, grabbing onto Romano's backpack strap and yanking him nearly hard enough to pull him to the ground. Romano caught his balance quickly, making sure to step on Antonio's foot as he did so.

Romano turned around slowly.

"No. Go away."

Antonio smiled again, undeterred. It was blinding. Romano flinched. There was no way this could get any more awkward.

...and then Antonio sunk down to one knee in the middle of the hallway, suddenly looking really serious and, coincidentally, doing the exact kind of thing that always made Romano start panicking unconditionally.

_No way, no fucking way, what the hell what is he doing what is he on-_

"Get the fuck up," Romano hissed desperately, not even trying to deny the existence his blush to himself, "People are staring, you dick, get the hell up or I'll kick your face in!"

Antonio grabbed one of Romano's hands, his grip surprisingly strong. From the outside, it probably looked like a romantic gesture, but its purpose was more along the lines of ensuring that Romano didn't run away sometime right about now.

"Lovino," _fuck no, he never called him that, it was always Lovi or Lovinito or fucking tomato, the Spanish bastard_, "I have something very important to ask you."

Romano was frantically searching for a way out of this situation. Everyone in the hallway had stopped by now, and it was starting to quiet down, making the senior's next words easier to hear for everyone within earshot and, _fuck, when did this bastard's grip get so tight?_

"I know you don't really like me, since, well, you seem to hurt me more often than most people and I'm pretty sure you at least look at your brother's texts, but," Romano, at this point, was seriously considering chewing his arm off to escape if this _fucking moron_ didn't shut the hell up. But he needed that arm to write with.

Ahah! That was a perfect idea! He felt like cheering in triumph.

"But," Antonio repeated, "I just wanted to tell you-OW!"

Steadfastly ignoring Antonio's speech, Romano had quickly leaned forward and dug his teeth into Antonio's wrist, with full intentions of actually chewing the hand off. Luckily for the older boy, Antonio decided keeping his entire arm intact was a higher priority to keeping Romano in place for ten more seconds and let go.

Romano shot off like a rocket, but not before delivering a solid kick to Antonio's face. He always followed through with his promises, after all.

And let it be said that his overreactions to all romantic gestures were _entirely justified_. That bastard had grown up in the company of the other two-thirds of the Bad Touch Trio, so everything he did must have been tainted! He refused to be raped!

xXx

Antonio never sulked. He never cried, he was never sad, period. Francis once said that if it ever should happen that Antonio was honestly upset about something, either Lovino died or the world was about to end.

Now, Antonio was sulking. That much was clear.

Gilbert and Francis had been watching him idly pick at his fries for the past ten minutes, but neither could work up the nerve to ask what could possibly be wrong. Gilbert was currently trying to bribe Francis to do something about the situation, but he wasn't having much luck. Damnit, this wasn't what their daily after-school meetings were for! They were supposed to be planning how to next piss off Roddy! Gilbert had this plan, it was almost as awesome as him, really, and it involved cherry stems, a miniature ferris wheel, and a lot of orange dye. The only currently standing problem was Liz's rather formidable frying pan...

Anyways, there was a reason they were up in their treehouse (built in sixth grade, thank you very much, and still strong despite numerous attacks on it by uncultured pirates and PMSing she-devils with goddamned cast-iron _frying pans_), and it was not to mope around! Surely someone could not actually be depressed in the presence of the Awesome?

Gilbert would fix this. And he would do so with the utmost sensitivity and care towards his friend's currently wavering emotional state.

"Um. 'Tonio. Care to enlighten us as to what the fuck is wrong with you? Did Romano finally follow through and kill your turtles?"

Antonio gasped and looked up so quickly he nearly got whiplash. "_Mis tortugas?_ Noo, Lovi, don't!"

Francis shared a deep moment with Gilbert, both lamenting over how obviously taken their adorable, dense friend was.

Well, that never stopped Francis.

He moved in, slinking his arms around Antonio's waist. "Mon ami, what has you so down today? This... moodiness is so unlike you."

Antonio sighed forlornly as Francis carefully unbuttoned his shirt, threading his fingers through his accomplice's hair.

"Well, you both know how much I love mi Lovi, yes? I'd do anything for him..." he sighed again, looking off into the distance again.

"Mm, yes, Antoine. We all know how obsessed you are," Francis slid the shirt of Antonio's shoulders and tossed it to the wooden floor they were seated on, "with your little boytoy."

"Eh, Franny, don't call him that! Lovi's precious. Anyways, I know he kind of likes me, too, kind of the same way he yells at Ludwig a lot even though he actually likes him 'cause he makes little Feli happy... So even though he yells and hits me and says really mean things-"

Gilbert snorted as Francis sneaked his hands down Antonio's pants, stealthily shifting the Spanish boy to sit on his lap. "Yeah, yeah, we get it. He throws a lot of bitchfits."

Antonio looked up from his place leaning on Francis's shoulder, scandalized. "Gilly!"

Gilbert apologized quickly, though mostly to Francis, who had quietly cursed when the sudden movement displaced the depressed boy on his lap, and, therefore, impeded his progress in unbuttoning his jeans.

Antonio settled back into his friend's lap as a hand not-so-subtly groped his ass. "Well, sometimes it just really hurts."

He looked down and fiddled with his fingers a little. "D'you guys think he might really hate me like he always says?"

Francis sighed, gently shoving Antonio (now only in his underwear and socks) to the floor and laying himself on top of the warm body. He swore his heart nearly broke in two when Antoine lifted his head up to look at him and he saw tears escaping from his eyes. "Oh..."

Gilbert had apparently caught onto the seriousness of the situation and scooted over to place Antonio's head in his lap, gently wiping at the tears. "Hey, Toni, don't cry..."

Francis took the moment to shift upwards a little, winding his arms around Antonio's neck and nuzzling under his chin in a hug. "Antoine, you and I both know Lovino only says the things he does because he is afraid. He loves you, non? He has loved you for a long time, but many people have said to love him as you do, only to leave him."

Antonio sniffed a little, repressing a small sob, and softly ran his fingers through Francis's hair as Gilbert did the same to his. "Yeah, man, just give him some time. I mean, I'm not as good at this comforting and romance thing as Franny here, but even I can see the kid's totally head over heels for you."

"Just," Francis smiled, "keep in mind that such public displays of affection easily embarrass our dear Lovi, oui? That's why he runs away so often."

Antonio finally smiled, releasing Francis's hair to pull Gilbert down and peck him on the lips. He did the same to Francis and then leaned back again, unbelievably happy he had such friends.

xXx

And that was their daily routine. Antonio would follow Romano around, finding more new places and events he felt his Lovi should go to with him, occasionally passionately declaring his love. Romano did his best to violently deny any association with the Spanish moron, the potato bastard's freaky albino brother, and the rapist. Antonio would leave little notes and chocolate inside Romano's locker and Romano would punch him next time he saw him, declaring he wasn't a girl and didn't want this shit, and if Antonio even thought about getting him _flowers._.. (Oddly enough, however, Romano reacted oddly to gifts in general. You'd think no one else had ever gotten him anything!)

And their friends would watch on, smiling secretly to themselves as they awaited the day when Antonio would finally kiss the boy silly.

(And they quite possibly made numerous bets on it, and Elizaveta may have started a small market with Kiku, promising glossy pictures in four sizes and footage if you'd just fork over enough cash, thank you.)

(But don't tell them that.)

xXx

Epilogue (L'amour a la Francaise):

Arthur stood there nervously, staring at the trap door above him. As club representative, he had a list of people he was obligated to ask to vote for their school in order for their football game to televised next Friday.

But did he really have to...? He'd already talked to Antonio, after all, maybe he could claim-

No. He steeled himself, stuffing his his clipboard under his arm. Grabbing onto the rope in front of him, he quickly shimmied (quite quickly, too, he certainly hadn't lost his touch) up the rope, bracing his feet against the trunk of the large tree when he got to the top, gently raising the trap door to peek inside. "Oi!"

And promptly dropped back down to the ground as fast as he could without getting rope burn, letting go of the wood and letting it slam shut on his, "O-oh, I'm so sorry, I'll just come back later, o-or at school tomorrow-"

As polite as he seemed on the outside, despite his quickly growing red blush, Arthur was seething inside as he speed-walked away. Who the hell did that _frog_ think he was?

"Hey, wait, Arthur!"

Obviously_, whomever Francis thought he was, _Arthur _wasn't quite as important to him as he'd previously-_

Arthur was surprised to find himself blinking back angry tears as he stopped and clenched his eyes and fists shut in an attempt to drive back the inevitable. There was no way he was going to cry in that stupid Frenchie's yard!

There was a sigh in front of him and his eyes flew open, not having realized he had been followed.

Francis smiled kindly at him, stepping forward and taking one of his hands. He gently smoothed out Arthur's tense fingers, rubbing the crescents his nails had dug into the tender skin.

"Arthur? What's wrong?"

The Englishman whipped out his clipboard, slamming it down onto Francis's head,

"What's _wrong?_" His accent got thicker and thicker the angrier he got, "How can you ask me that? Just yesterday- I thought- I thought-"

Arthur stopped himself and took a deep breath, yanking his hand out of the frog's. He stared stonily at the ground, tears streaming from his eyes and unable to talk for fear of his voice cracking completely.

"What are you talking about, Arthur?" Francis's voice had the same lilting quality it always did and how_ dare_ he sound as if there was nothing wrong-

"Mon cher," Francis pulled Arthur close, tucking the shorter boy's head under his chin, "You didn't think I was cheating on you, did you?"

Arthur sputtered, something he did rather often around Francis and Alfred. "Well, what the bloody hell am I supposed to think when I walk in on you kissing some other guy?"

"Arthur..."

"I should've known I was just another notch in your stupid, goddamn belt!" He tried to shove himself away, but Francis could keep a damn tight grip when he tried.

"Arthur, cher, I love you."

He didn't give the stunned Brit a chance to respond, but instead tilted Arthur's chin up with a finger and kissed him. Francis watched, keeping his eyes open, as Arthur's slowly slipped shut and yet more tears escaped them. He pulled back, kissing Arthur once, twice, three more times before meeting their foreheads and smiling as Arthur hiccupped.

"It seems I am dealing with many of the people dear to me crying today," Francis smiled softly again, doing his best to placate the distressed classmate in front of him.

"Don't worry." He leaned in to kiss Arthur again. It was a rather wet kiss, and Arthur grasped at the back of his neck afterward, leaning in to press his eyes against Francis's neck.

"I wouldn't cheat on you for anybody in the world."

xXx

Epilogue and multiple references specially for Irrelevancy, my TWU WUV and partner in Awesomeness. Now we just need to find the last third to our Bad Touch Trio and we'll be good for life!


End file.
